


A Little Unwell

by Adm_Hawthorne, Googlemouth



Series: A Little [1]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Rizzles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adm_Hawthorne/pseuds/Adm_Hawthorne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Googlemouth/pseuds/Googlemouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane is sick; ballpark food is not her friend. Maura comes to the rescue. Rizzles. Cowritten with Googlemouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Characters aren't mine. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, Turner Broadcasting, Warner Brothers, and other assorted important people. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.

Jane leaned back on her sofa and groaned. The thermometer read 101. Despite the high fever, she was freezing. The stomach cramps had at least died down, but she was flashing between hot and cold worse than her mother on a bad day. _If this is what it feels like to go through the change, I hope I die in the line of duty first_ , she thought as another wave of cramps hit and curled her into a ball on her side.

The knock was barely audible despite the low volume of the television set. Jane tried to get up, but moving hurt. Between the high fever she'd been running all day and the stomach cramps, her body was sore and weak. The knock came again. _Oh man, just go away._ She resettled into her little ball of pain.

The third knock was accompanied by a key turning in the door. _Crap, it's Ma. I'm too weak to fight. I'll never survive this. God, just let me die now._

"Jane?"

_Maura? What is she doing here?_ "On the couch." The dark haired brunette tried to sit up, grimaced in pain, and fell back onto the cushions.

"Jane, why didn't you call me?" In a swift movement, Maura was by Jane's side. In her knee length dress, she knelt beside the sofa to look at her friend. "What happened?" She began to take inventory of Jane's state.

"Best guess? Food poisoning." _I just want to sleep. She's going to ask for…_

"…are your symptoms?" Maura was already looking around for the thermometer.

"Stomach issues I'm not going to get into with you that've stopped. Stomach's still cramping like a mother, though. Fever running about 101. Hot and cold chills. Body aches… probably from the throwing up and fever."

Gently running her hand over Jane's sweat covered face, Maura frowned. "You're still burning up. You need to bathe and change. I'm going to go run a bath for you. When was the last time you tried to eat?"

_Oh God_ "Let's not talk about food." _I don't want to move._ "Like, ever, okay?" _Her hand's still on my forehead. That feels nice._ Jane let out a soft, appreciative moan. _I could fall asleep if she'd just keep…_

"…and no sleeping until we can get you cleaned up a bit. I know you just want to lie here, but doing so has the potential of causing added issues." Maura stood and turned to the bathroom. "I'm going to run the water, you go get ready. I mean it, Jane. If you're not ready by the time I get back, I'll strip you myself."

"Bossy." _She calls **me** bossy._

Slowly, the detective sat up and rolled from the sofa. She shuffled to her bedroom, past the open bathroom door where Maura was bent over the tub running the water. _I should just push her in._ With a pout firmly planted on her face, Jane pulled off her clothes, tossed them in the hamper, and pulled on a robe. By the time she had managed to shuffle into the bathroom, Maura was stepping out.

"The warm water should help with your body aches. I put some bubbles in it," she gave the pouting woman a gentle smile, "I know you like them."

_Yes._ "No. Ma bought that crap for me last Christmas. I just haven't bothered to toss it." _I really should buy some more. I think I'm almost out._

"Jane." The same gentle smile on her face, Maura stepped to the side to allow the detective to walk into the bathroom. "Don't forget to pull your hair up."

"Yeah… yeah…"

"Do you need help with anything? I can hold you upright while you undress, if you need," Maura offered, sympathy coloring what she probably thought was a nice, clinical bedside manner, thus illustrating how seldom she saw live patients. Still, it was probably better than the professional chill she would doubtless have adopted with anyone other than Jane. "I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself."

"It's a robe, Maura," Jane spat back with mild irritation, "not a freaking Givenchy dress. I got this. Now, do you mind? A little privacy?" She stood, arms crossed, waiting for the doctor to step out of the doorframe so the door could be closed.

Maura obediently stepped outside, though the concern in her features did not lessen in the least.

Rather than making a second offer of assistance, the pathologist headed right for Jane's laptop, booted it up, and called up a Google map of Jane's address. "Directions, nearest drugstore," she mumbled beneath her breath, and then started clicking links until she found the nearest. "Hello," she began when the pharmacy department answered, then made her enquiries. A few minutes later she headed back to the bathroom door, knocked gently, and spoke through it. "Jane? I'm going to run out and get you some things that may help you feel better, okay? I won't be more than ten minutes."

The sound of water splashing followed by a grunt echoed through the small bathroom. "K. Can you pick up some apple juice, too?" Jane's voice sounded weak and more hoarse than normal. If it were anyone else, it might have been described as sounding a little on the pathetic side.

"Okay, Jane," Maura called back. As she trotted quickly back for the apartment door, snatching her purse from where she'd dropped it earlier, she murmured, "Poor baby."

Ten minutes later, Maura was back from the nearest drug store, which was actually a sort of all-purpose chain - drug store, a few groceries, housewares, shoes. She would never have shopped there, given another viable choice, but she also hadn't wanted to leave Jane for very long. It didn't take long to unpack her purchases: apple juice, three different flavors of Pedialyte, a quartet of bananas, some sugar-free apple sauce, and surprisingly good quality bread. She popped two pieces of bread into Jane's toaster, then arranged the juice, apple sauce, one sliced banana, and a cup of ice water on a tray. The Pedialyte would wait until she had ascertained which flavor Jane preferred. The apple juice she placed in the refrigerator for later. Once it was all taken care of, she made for the bathroom again. "Does your bath still have a reasonable level of bubble cover?" she asked the closed door.

There was no answer, not even the sound of water moving.

Maura shifted the tray she held onto one hand, knocked with the other, and waited. "Jane? ... _Jane_?" That was it. She knew the dangers. It was time to violate Jane's treasured privacy. She set the tray down in the hallway and barged in.

Jane was sleeping peacefully in the bathtub. She floated in the warm, partially bubbled water, her head lolling against her shoulder and her left arm hanging over the side of the tub. Her breathing was even, and a light snore filled the air.

Maura explosively released the breath she had been holding as the color flooded back into her ashen features. " _Oh, God_ , Jane!" How quickly a person could move from fear to relief to exasperation. It didn't even seem to matter that Jane wasn't awake, at least at first; she simply dropped to the side of the tub and took her friend by the shoulders. "Don't you ever scare me like that again. I thought you had drowned."

Jane startled awake. "Maura?" Remembering where she was and how she was, she quickly went from confused to angry. "What the hell?" Instinctively trying to gain some of her dignity back, the detective pulled back, away from the doctor's grasp, which, in turn, pulled the doctor toward her and precariously close to the side of the tub.

Jane's slippery shoulders offered no purchase whatsoever, and, with the sudden movement's effects on her center of gravity, there was nothing she could do about her fall but brace. One hand caught the edge of the tub, thankfully, but the other arm went right into the bath, down by Jane's arm. With a rapidity that was almost as startling as the sudden motion and fall, she flung herself backward, horrified. "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?" she wondered, immediately accepting blame for the incident. Tears sprang unbidden as she explained herself, working up into a mess. "I just, you didn't answer when I called, and I know it only takes four minutes to drown, and I was gone for ten, and then it took me another five or so to get your tray ready, and you didn't answer when I knocked either, and I was so _scared_ , Jane! You really scared me. I thought you were dead."

"Okay, _first_ of all, calm down. No one's dead. I mean, I feel like crap, but I'm _not_ dead." Jane turned in the tub to face her friend, one hand covering her chest, the other laying over her lap. "Second of all, I'm really sorry for nearly pulling you in with me. I hope that wasn't a dry clean only dress." She gave her best apologetic face. "Third of all, I feel really awkward right now… what with the naked, and you all over my… um.. well, just awkward about everything. Look, you can raid my room for some dry clothes, but could you step out for a few so I get out and at least pull a robe on? Then, you can yell at me all you want. I already feel bad, so adding to it won't hurt." _I really messed up this time, and I wasn't even trying. Why do I only do this with Maura?_ Chewing at the corner of her mouth, Jane breathed in deeply for a split second before adding, "And, I'm really sorry I scared you."

Maura nodded during Jane's speech, sniffling in a vain attempt to pull back her emotional response and just let her unfortunate, sick friend be. She wasn't helping Jane feel better. She also wasn't even looking at the bathtub, once she'd gotten herself back out of it. "I'm sorry, Jane," she said again, turning around even before she stood up. "I'm going to go change. Rinse off in the hottest shower you can stand comfortably; I'll find you something clean to put on." She picked up Jane's robe, with all its slept-in sick-sweat, and took it with her.

Just a few minutes later, she was back at the door to the bathroom, knocking tentatively as the water shut off again. "Jane? I'm going to come in, set your clean clothes on the counter, and then leave. I'm not going to look in your direction at all, but if you're concerned, you might want to hold a towel over yourself. Let me know when it's okay for me to come in."

"It's okay, Maura. The towel will, in fact, wrap around me," Jane called out from behind the door. "Come in, and leave the door open," after a moment's hesitation, her voice softened to add, "please."

Maura entered, eyes studiously on the floor, and set down a set of relatively new Patriots sweats, Red Sox tank top that had been worn enough to feel like it wasn't really there, and the underthings and socks that were on top in the drawer. For herself, she had chosen a Property Of Boston Police Department shirt and some cutoff jean shorts. But for the expensive hairdo, she might have been any girl next door. She turned to face out into the hallway again, since facing Jane was out of the question, and the other wall held a mirror. "I hope those things are all right. If you need anything else, I'll get it for you. I have your tray on the coffee table, whenever you're ready to try eating something."

"Um... yeah... thanks," uncertainty in her voice, Jane stepped toward the clothes piled on the counter. _Man, why she is always so black and white? We have one little incident, and she can't even look in my direction when I have a towel wrapped around me. I mean, it's not like...hmmm_ "Maura, you can look at me. You've seen me in a towel before. It's cool. You just... took me by surprise with the tub thing. If you wanted to take a bath with me," she reached for the smaller woman's shoulders to spin her, "you should have asked first." With a wink and a smirk, she dropped her hand and chuckled.

Maura snickered as she let herself be spun. "This isn't for my sake, Jane. You're the one who suddenly got more modest than I've ever seen you in the locker room after yoga. I interpreted it as a shyness resulting from thinking that you don't look good because you don't feel good. Now that I know you don't actually mean it when you tell me not to look, I'll just look all I want... _and_ ask first before helping you bathe."

Maura's comment lead to another chuckle from the detective, one that wasn't quite indicative of humor but more of a resounding of a 'come again' comment. "Oh, laughing bad," her face went from somewhat humored to pained in a matter of moments, causing Maura's impish grin to metamorphose rapidly into concern. "Stomach cramp. I'll be fine." Jane held her hand up to halt the doctor's inevitable run to her side. "Go do your thing. I'm going to get dressed."

"All right," Maura replied, "although my things are done. I'll be on the couch, if you need help with anything. If you feel dizzy, faint, or weak at all, call me for help. Please." With that, she left the bathroom, remembering at the last to leave the door open as requested.

_Hate being sick. **Hate** it._ Jane let her towel drop as she grabbed her clothes and began pulling them on. _Why can't I just be fine? Is that too much to ask?_ With a huff, she pulled on her sports bra. _Wait a minute, did Maura just say she likes to look at me... **naked**?_ She pulled on her sweatpants, lost her balance, and fell with a loud thud flat on her rear. "Shit."

In a flash, Maura was back at the bathroom doorway. "What happened?" she asked, though she could see for herself. "Oh, no, Jane. Here, take my hands. Honestly, wouldn't it hurt less to let me help you?"

Begrudgingly, Jane took the offered help, pulling herself up using Maura as a counterweight. "Let you help me get dressed?" _What am I? Three?_ "Really? Man, it's _your_ fault I fell down. It just hit me what you said about... okay, you know what? Never mind. Let's not go back there." She straighten, grabbed her shirt, and pulled it on. "I think we can add a bruised back to my list of ailments now. I'm going to the sofa." With a slight limp, Jane headed for her living room.

Puzzlement crept across Maura's features, but Jane had indicated that she should not ask questions that would clarify the matter, and so she left it alone for the time being. However, she did reach into the bathroom cabinet for a little jar of salve, good for bruises and sore muscles and all manner of other physical pains. On second thought, she also picked up a pair of rubber gloves, the sort she'd left there the last time Jane had needed first aid.

The coffee table bore the tray Maura had made just before 'the bathtub incident': dry toast, apple sauce, sliced banana, a glass of ice water, and the three flavors of Pedialyte she'd picked up. Well, two flavors and one unflavored, just in case.

"No apple juice?" The tone that most would consider pathetic had crept back into Jane's voice as she'd settled on the sofa to stare at the tray. Sitting cross-legged on the far right cushion, she glanced over the back of the sofa to give Maura her best pouty look. _Aww, I really wanted apple juice._ "You said you'd get some." She frowned, but it came across as more of a pout. "I like the grape stuff, though. Thanks for getting it." _Still wanted apple juice._

"Apple juice is in the refrigerator, but it's for later." explained the caramel blonde as she sat down beside Jane, setting down the gloves and salve near the tray. "It's too sugary to be good for your digestive system right now... Oh, sweetie, don't pout at me. It's not going to work. You can have it once you've finished one entire bottle of electrolyte-stabilizer," she pointed at the Pedialyte, "and kept down at least half the food on your tray for two hours." Maura Isles was a hard, hard woman, but at least it was for the right reasons. She cared.

"Hey, I'm _not_ pouting." _Am I?_ "Fine, give me the grape stuff." Jane handed Maura the remote and slowly drank down the bottle of Pedialyte between eating a banana and some apple sauce. After successfully managing to eat everything Maura had dictated, she moved to lie down on the sofa. "Feeling a little weak." _Like a lot weak._ "Would you hold it against me if I laid here for a little bit? Maybe use you as a pillow?" _If I'm lucky, maybe you'll rub my head like that one time. That'd be awesome._

Maura had watched Jane surreptitiously, making certain that food was actually being consumed rather than spirited away and hidden somewhere. When she was satisfied with the amount, however, she stopped watching Jane eat, and simply watched Jane. The detective _was_ weakened, sallow, thinner, but at least she seemed in better spirits now that she felt clean. The doctor congratulated herself on having gotten her friend to bathe and wash her hair, though she was mildly disappointed that the hair had not then been dried or brushed. "I'll be right back." She hopped up again, coming back with the softest hairbrush she could find, and made a lap. "Come on. Once I take care of your bruised back, I'm going to look after that rat's nest of... um... your pretty, pretty hair."

"Man, really?" _Damn it._ "I'm guessing that fighting you on this isn't really going to do me any good is it?" _Never does._ With a groan, Jane sat back up. "How do you want me?"

The smaller woman's complacent smile advertised that Jane was right: there was no use complaining, hollering, arguing, or whining. "On your stomach, across my lap, and pull up your shirt until I can see the bruises." She reached for the gloves and salve. "Since they're somehow my fault, they're my responsibility, too, even if you won't tell me why I'm to blame."

_I see what you're doing there, Dr. Isles. No way you're getting **that** one out of me._ Sighing heavily to show her vexation, Jane turned carefully to lay herself across Maura's lap so her stomach had as little pressure as possible placed on it. "You can move the shirt. I don't care," though her voice was muffled, the clear sound of defeat was obvious.

"So. It was something I said," Maura mused as she nudged up the edge of Jane's shirt with comfortingly cool, bare fingers. As she pulled on one rubber glove and then the other, she went over their entire conversation, remembering it word for word, though she only uttered a handful of phrases aloud. In backwards order. "Let's see, you swore. Before that, there was the crash. Before that, you were rustling, presumably putting on your sports bra and your sweat pants. Before that, I said call me for help. Before that, you had a stomach cramp because you were laughing." Between recitations, she dipped her gloved fingers into the fragrant salve and began smearing it gently around every bruise she could see, recent or otherwise. "You laughed because _I_ was laughing and making a joke, saying I'd ask first before helping you bathe. And that since I knew you were only kidding when you told me not to look, I'd look all I wanted next time. Before that, you were in your towel and said I could look at you. Before that, I brought you your clothes, and I hope I set them next to the sink instead of _in_ the sink, but I couldn't really see very well because I was trying to respect your stated wishes. Before that..." She kept going all the way back to when she'd first arrived at the apartment, finding nothing startling enough to have caused Jane to become startled enough to fall. "Was this something I said _today_ , or was it earlier?"

"I can't believe we're talking about this. Didn't I say that we should just forget about it?" The detective wiggled, causing her shirt to ride further up toward her neckline. "I mean, you have me strung out over your lap like a 3 year old, and it's not like I can really fight you back. It's not fair, Maura. I'm at a disadvantage here. I'm sick. I'm weaker than normal." A hand came up to gesture blindly over her head. "Come on, cut me a break here." She flexed her muscles, a habit she picked up as she learned how not to yell at her sensitive friend. _Shit._ "Oh God, bad idea," in a quick motion, she rolled ungracefully off of the doctor, landed on all fours on the floor, and scrambled to the bathroom, barely making it to her feet before slamming the door shut behind her.

Maura had wanted to explain to Jane that although her own detective work was done within bodies rather than out in the world of crime scenes and suspects and witnesses, she too had the need for answers built into her psyche. To remind her friend that she wasn't used to social interactions that weren't well choreographed, each step prescribed by countless rules to make things easier for her, and that with informal social interactions, she often needed a road map, flashlight, and a helpful sherpa to guide the way - all of which meant that she relied on friends to tell her when she had communicated things that she had not meant to communicate, while failing to communicate what she _had_ wanted to say. To protest that if she'd been offensive, she needed to know how, so that she was less likely to repeat her error among people less likely to forgive her than Jane.

But there was no time. Jane was up and off her so quickly that it left her head spinning - figuratively, of course - and she had no choice but to remove her rubber gloves, get up, and follow her to the bathroom. She listened for a moment, trying to figure out which symptom was currently torturing her best friend, then walked back to the kitchen to refill Jane's ice. More Pedialyte would go down easier if it was cold.

A few very long moments, and one teeth brushing, later Jane staggered out of the bathroom. "Hate this. Never eating at the ballpark again." _Stupid hotdog._ Closing her eyes, she leaned against the door frame before propelling herself off of it and toward the sofa. "Worse than being stabbed," she muttered as she slid down to sit in the middle of the sofa. "You wanted to brush my rat's nest, right?"

"Yes, I do. Please." It would serve as an apology, perhaps; she'd never miscommunicated through touch, even when her well-meaning mouth offended or upset right and left. Maura climbed onto the back-rest of the sofa and sat there, knees apart, for Jane to seat herself normally. Once Jane had arranged herself again, the relatively diminutive woman began gently teasing the tangles out of just the bottom inch of Jane's curls, avoiding any and all pulls, rips, or snarls. She moved up about half an inch at a time, working silently but with pleasure as her hands worked the long tresses. As she moved up for the third time or so, she remarked idly, "You have the nicest hair. I love touching it."

"Feels nice." Jane leaned back a bit further to allow Maura better access. "I don't normally get people messing with my hair. I'm glad you like to play with it." _Didn't even happen when I was in school._ A few quite seconds ticked away before she spoke again. "Maura, when you're done, can we go lay down? I'm cold, and I'm tired, and you petting my head is making me want to go to sleep."

"Okay, sweetie," Maura replied, laying one warm hand on her friend's head in between brush strokes. A moment later, she suggested, "Actually, I can brush you while you're lying down, too. You could go to sleep any time your body lets you."

_How long has she called me sweetie?_ "I'd rather just lay on you." _Did I just say that?_ Without another word, Jane pulled away and stumbled into her bedroom, not bothering to turn to see if Maura was following. _I can't believe those words just came out of my mouth. Maura **is not** my body pillow. What the hell?_ She crawled into what she had come to consider her side of the bed, and pulled the covers up to her chin, not bothering to turn the lights out.

Maura, on the other hand, smiled the entire way back to the bedroom, hairbrush in hand and with another complacent, "Okay, sweetie." She took little time shucking the jean cutoffs, turned on the nightstand light on her side of the bed, then sat down near Jane's head to brush out her hair. The tangles were gone; all that was left was to make sure Jane got some real rest, lulled by the soft bristles against her scalp, gentle fingers combing through the dark, rich locks in between each brush stroke. When she judged Jane relaxed enough, she scooted down to spoon up behind the taller woman, head propped on one hand, the other continuing to brush; and when the difference between sleeping and waking was its most indistinct, she set the brush on her nightstand, pushed the 'off' switch on the light, and continued the pleasurable task with only her fingers. Silken black, gleaming in the faint lights from outside Jane's bedroom window, splayed across the pillow. Maura fell asleep stroking it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Still want to crawl in a hole._ Jane opened one eye slowly as the morning light warmed her face. _Damn, forget to close the curtains. No way I'm getting up. Moving too much is bad._ She rolled over to avoid the sun only to find herself face to chest with Maura's sleeping form. _Oh my God! Not what I was expecting to see first thing in the morning. Not a bad first… nope, not going there._ She gently pulled herself up, closer to the head of the bed. _Cold. She's warm._ Gradually, she nudged Maura until the smaller woman was on her back. _Getting there._ Once she was satisfied the doctor was still at least half asleep and settled in her new position, the brunette snuggled up against her side, moving Maura's arm to wrap around her while she snuggled her head into the crook of the smaller woman's neck, draping her lanky form around the warm body of her friend. _Mmmm… warm, soft… comfy…_ "Safe." The word barely a whisper, Jane began to drift back to sleep.

Maura was being moved, a fact that barely impinged on her sleeping awareness because of the physical comfort in which she remained during the move. True, her soothing breast warmer had moved, but then it returned, spreading its reassuring weight and silklike curtain over her upper body again. The slender, strong arm which held her safely anchored had barely shifted, so she was still safe. The voice told her so. "Mm," she agreed with the little bit of her that was aware of the word's echo in her thoughts, a luxury of security that she felt even in sleep, as her limbs welcomed and accommodated the wiry, yet surprisingly soft, form which Maura was just barely able to identify and name, however blurry the spoken syllable. "Zhhaaane."

Sleep overtook them for a time, and the early morning drifted away. The sound of "Mamma Mia" ringing out through the silence, piercing their rest both shocked and angered Jane simultaneously. _Not now, Ma. Damn it. I'm busy sleeping._ She opened her eyes to find herself still draped over Maura. _Nope, this is **not** weird or awkward at all. Man… why can't my life just be normal for once?_ As the song replayed for a second time, Jane rolled over to her nightstand, picked up the phone and rolled back with a moan. _Moved too fast. Want to be sick. Really don't want to be sick on Maura._ "What, Ma?"

"I guess that means you don't feel any better?" Angela Rizzoli's voice floated from the phone.

"Been better, been worse… _was_ sleeping." _On Maura, apparently… hmmm… am still on Maura._ She settled down in the crook of the doctor's neck again and let the phone rest on the side of her face, stretching her arm to lie across Maura's waist.

"I'm sorry, Janie. I figured you'd be up by now. I just wanted to call to see how you were doing. Your father's still in bad shape. He says he feels like his insides have, well, let's just say he's felt better too. Do you need anything? I can swing by on my way to pick up a few things at the store."

"No, I'm good," she slurred out, sleep threatening to overtake her again. "Maura came over last night."

At mention of her name, hazel eyes flickered open, instantly sparkling with intelligent awareness. Maura smiled down at Jane with easy lassitude, making no effort to move at all.

"Oh, that was nice of her. Did she bring you some food?"

"Yeah, and some grape stuff." _And some apple juice. I want apple juice._ "And apple juice," Maura's head shook, causing Jane to pout, "but she won't let me drink it."

"Why not? What do you mean she won't let you drink it? Is she still there?"

 _Too many questions._ "She says it's too sugary for me right now, and, yeah, she's still here. Ma, I'm really tired." _Please. Hang up. The phone._

"Okay, well, if Maura is still there, then you're in good hands. I'll leave you alone for right now, but you two call if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay, love you, Ma." With a heavy hand, Jane grabbed her phone, hit the end button, and tossed her it in the direction of the nightstand by Maura. It landed somewhere on the floor in a loud clatter and a yelp. _The dog!_ "Oh, Joe, I'm sorry," Maura's arms slipped reluctantly from around Jane as the tall brunette quickly sat up, winced, and darted for the bathroom.

Maura sighed and rolled over to check on Joe Friday, rubbing the furry head in consolation. "She didn't mean it. You'd tell me if you had a contusion, wouldn't you?" The dog's head cocked to one side for a moment's consideration, then she yipped, appreciating the fact that Maura seldom spoke to her as if she were a slow human infant. Joe Friday liked a low-key, mature conversation once in a while. "Good. You'll have to be very clear about it, though, because I don't quite grasp all the complexities of canine communication. It appears to be a very small, tonal vocabulary, with most of the nuances arising out of facial and body expressions, which I'm not good at reading in canine form." Another yip. "Thank you. Do you suppose Jane is still feeling ill, or is it simply that all the forced fluids are catching up to her?" No answer from the dog this time, but Maura didn't seem to mind. "Well, of course you don't know. You're not a doctor. All right, I'll go find out." Yip! "...After I've checked your food and water. Right you are. Just let me put on some clothes and brush my teeth, and we'll go for your morning constitutional." Joe's head cocked again. "Walk." YIP YIP YIP! Joe now tore ass to get to the place where her leash was hung, then back to Maura's side, several times while Maura pulled on yesterday's clothing. Clean things could wait until after the walk, when she would shower and get dressed for real.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

_It was one hotdog, for God's sake. It's not like I ate an entire pig._ Rolling over to put her face against the cool tile of her bathroom floor, Jane gave herself a moment before cleaning up. _This sucks. Maura's going to make me take a shower. Might as well do it and get it over with._ With effort, she pulled herself up using the sink as a handhold, brushed her teeth, and disrobed. _Why am I so freaking cold all the time?_ She turned the shower on, let it warm, cracked the door slightly to let the steam out, and got in. _Light headed, not good. Kind of dizzy._ Grabbing the towel rack in her shower, she braced for a moment to steady herself. "I refuse to pass out in the shower."

Just as Maura was about to step outside the door, she heard the water go on. _Good idea_ , she thought, then decided that Joe Friday's walk would be a very short one. She didn't want another fright like that of the previous evening, or worse, what if Jane slipped and fell and really _was_ hurt? "All right, Joe. Let's make this a quickie, and then we can go again in a little while when Jane is safe on the couch or back in bed." Joe started sniffing around, not quite understanding the instructions, so Maura broke it down for her in Jane's usual terminology. "Hurry up, girl."

Five minutes later, Joe had watered every shrub in front of the apartment complex, and the two headed back inside. Maura removed the leash from Joe's collar, fed and watered her, and then made for the bathroom. As the water was still running, she rapped once on the door. When it moved, she poked her head inside the steaming room. "Jane, are you safe?"

"Yeah, and not dead or passed out. I was just about to get out." _Always with the safety questions. I'm not a kid. I can handle getting out of the shower._ "I promise not to fall again if you promise not to throw me off by saying you like to stare at me naked _and_ you let me get out on my own." She turned the water off and stuck her hand out to grab the towel hanging on the rack.

"All right," Maura replied cheerily from somewhat nearer than the doorway as she helpfully handed over the towel that she had removed from the rack to give to Jane. "I won't. I'll just get my things so I can take my turn. Oh," the wheels turned rather rapidly in her analytical mind, "is that what made you fall yesterday?" Patience and not asking had yielded results where would-be-sneaky questioning techniques had failed. "You did know I was teasing, right? Like you were teasing me about asking before I tried to get in the bath with you. Admittedly, I'm not all that good at jokes..."

Jane plucked the towel out of the doctor's hand, wrapped it around herself, and pulled the curtain aside. "No, I didn't. I think I'm off my game. Since you're here, give me a hand, will you?" Reaching out with an unsteady hand, she grasped the small shoulder for support as she attempted to climb over the side of the tub. "I'm really light headed, Maura." Her voice was shaky, faint.

Like lightning, Maura was by her friend's side, shoulder edging up under Jane's, arm supporting around her back. "Lean on me. Come here, I've got you. That's it. Step. Step. Slowly, Jane, don't rush yourself. Do you need me to carry you?" It wasn't an idle offer. Shorter though she might be, Maura was surprisingly strong, as even Jane knew from having shared workouts with her for several months. She could have carried _Frankie_ Rizzoli for a short distance, if need be, without straining too hard.

"No," despite how she felt, Jane's voice held a certain amount of amusement. "How would you fit us through the door? Besides, this isn't _An Officer and A Gentleman_ , and you don't have a hat on." She steadied herself against her friend. "You don't get a single part of that reference do you? No, probably not."

"No, but if you really want me to put on a hat before you'll let me help you, I will." Maura's clothes had already started to achieve the pockmarked appearance of fabric that had received more than its fair share of scatter from Jane's shower, as apparently she had had her faint spell _before_ drying off.

 _Okay, something's going on here. Brain, what are you up to? An Officer and a Gentleman? Really?_ "Let's just hit the bedroom so I can put some clothes on, okay?" She held her free hand up to stop additional offers. "We'll both walk." With that, the two made their slow, unsteady way towards the bedroom, where Maura would not let Jane go until she was seated securely on the bed.

"Sit right there," the blonde instructed, "and just tell me what clothes you want. I'll get them for y... On further reflection, I think it would be better if you just lie down. You still look far too faint." Saying so, she bent to catch up Jane's legs and swing her round to lie lengthwise on the bed. "Don't argue, Jane, please. Just lie still. I'm going to go get another towel. You're still mostly wet." Mere moments later, she was back with a hand towel, patting dry Jane's hands, arms, and shoulders.

"I'd fight you," the brunette mumbled as she let herself be dried off, "but I feel kind of heavy. So, I'm going to let you do this _one_ time. But, if you tell anyone," the note of warning was enough. It threatened all kinds of bad things. _As if she would._ "The room's spinning."

Deep concern lanced its way through Maura's features, but her hands remained extremely gentle as she dabbed the hand towel over each inch of her friend's damp upper limbs. "Are you experiencing any other symptoms related to your food poisoning?" she asked softly, too worried to make reassuring small talk, as she moved down to the lower limbs, starting with the feet. "The first thing this morning, when you were in such a hurry to get into the bathroom, did you regurgitate or only urinate? That is, um, vomit or p-pee?"

Jane snorted. "Yeah, I know what those words mean, Maura. I threw up. Then crawled up the sink, brushed my teeth, figured you'd make me take a shower, so I decided to just beat you to it." She closed her eyes. "I'm probably dehydrated. I'm sleepy. I'm cold all the time now, and I really just want to curl up in a ball around you like we were this morning and sleep." _Dear Brain, when you get ready to tell me what you're up to, I'd really appreciate it. Much Irritation, Me._ "Want me to roll over?"

Maura worked the towel up Jane's legs, her touch compassionate. "No, I can reach everything from here," she replied absently, still fretting, though not dramatically. "It will be easier for you to drink your Pedialyte if you're able to sit up for a little bit." Finishing with the legs, she moved back up and dabbed even more tenderly at Jane's face, shoulders, and the upper chest that was available outside the towel wrap. "I should get... That is to say, the rest of you should be dried a bit more thoroughly so that you don't get a moisture rash. You can do it if you're able, or I'll do it if you don't mind my help. After you're dry, I'll get you some warmer pajamas, okay?"

In a replay of events from the day before, Jane was asleep, lulled by the gentle touch and gentle caresses.

Maura's heart melted. Not literally, of course, but she did feel herself becoming emotionally muddled, as if she was melting and being reshaped. "Oh, my poor sweet Jane," she sighed, "you must hate this." Being helpless, looking weak, she knew was anathema to the strong, competent detective. Dare she help without permission? Most of her patients could not give their consent, but she never hesitated to do everything for them. She stripped their bodies, combed them for trace evidence, washed them. When that nakedness was not enough for her investigations, she would then strip their skin away and see the parts of them that they had never seen of themselves, until all their secrets were revealed.

Jane's unconsciousness was fortunately temporary, however. When she returned to awareness, would she hate knowing that Maura had seen her with every muscle relaxed, every scar exposed, not looking mighty? Probably. But a wet body, the pathologist argued with herself, was an invitation to bacterial incursion. Moreover, the longer she thought about it, the colder and less comfortable Jane would become.

 _It is easier to gain forgiveness than permission_ , her mind supplied the quote, and just like that, the decision was made, though not without trepidation. She pulled Jane's towel wrap apart and made quick but soft work of drying all but the most intimate of areas. Even there, she lay the hand towel to soak up what it could while she rummaged in Jane's drawers for the softest undergarments, the warmest pajamas. Panties, extra-fuzzy socks, thick flannel bottoms, a tank top so soft-worn as to be nearly ready for recycling, and a long flannel sleep shirt that looked like something only a mother would buy, and only for Christmas morning gift exchange time. Maura put on each garment that she could, moving as slowly as possible so as not to disturb her best friend's attempt at rest.

The attempt, as it turned out, was futile. "Maura?" Jane looked down at her fuzzy sock covered feet. "How'd I get… oh man, you didn't?" _She just saw me completely naked! The scars…_ "Why didn't you just wake me up? I could have… wait, hold on." She slowly sat up, pushing herself against the headboard. "You put me in plaid flannel? You know, Frankie bought this for me as a prank one Christmas. I nearly killed him. Warm though." She wrapped her arms around herself. "So, I told you it was okay to help dry me off, and you took that to mean it was okay to strip me naked? Man, there are… things I'd rather you _not_ have seen on me, Maura."

"I apologize, Jane," Maura said with genuine contrition, "but you're ill and cold, and I didn't want to make it worse by leaving you wet and naked until you woke up. Please forgive me for intruding on your modesty. If it..." She broke off with a regretful huff. People thought she didn't have a filter, but she did; it had just kicked in two words too late.

"If it what?" Where normally there were would be anger and exasperation, the detective's voice was tired and brittle sounding. "Please don't be mad at me," she sounded small. _Why am I apologizing?_ "I'm just… careful with who I let see the scars. You know I don't even change in the locker room. I grab my stuff and change in a stall." She sighed, closing her eyes. _I can't believe I'm going to tell her this. Why her?_ "People who see me without my clothes on… okay _guys_ who see me naked, they normally have different ideas about how I look than how I _actually_ look. They think I probably look like some sort of runway model, and I look like I've been put up for target practice or something, and I guess it's made me a little… not okay with people seeing me that way." Her head fell back against the headboard, eyes still closed. "I think I'd rather have been in control when you saw me completely nude for the first time. I mean," her eyes shot open, head quickly coming up. _What the hell just came out of my mouth?_ " **If** you were to see me naked. If… I meant so say _if_. Sorry." Clearly flustered, Jane covered her face with her hands.


	4. Chapter 4

Maura winced and reached forward even before Jane's head hit the headboard, but not quickly enough to protect her from the bump, only enough to reach back and rub the spot where she'd hit. Her hand remained reassuringly at the back of Jane's head for a moment, then slid down the neck to the shoulder. "I'm not mad, Jane, of course I'm not mad." Her voice was infinitely compassionate. "I just... I see bodies every day, Jane. Some of them are malnourished, overweight, pockmarked, scarred, deformed, diseased. I see a lot of bodies that have been shot, stabbed, raped, beaten, flayed, dismembered, and disfigured. I see bodies that I suppose should look detestable to me, and I see some bodies that should probably look beautiful to me, and do you know how I see every last one of them?" One brow lifted, a facial question mark.

Dropping her hands to her lap, Jane silently shook her head no.

"I see them as patients. That's all. I don't have the right to judge them. Whatever those bodies looked like, they were once worthy to house a human soul, and therefore they are... I suppose the closest word I have for them is sacred, or holy, even though I'm not overly fond of religious imagery. So if I feel that way about the dead, empty bodies of strangers that I never knew or personally cared about, how much more honor and respect would I feel towards the body of someone still living, still able to feel the difference between the way I treat them and the way... the way someone else might? Even if you weren't my best friend and I didn't know you and love you, how could I see anything other than beauty when I looked at you?" Her earnestness practically shone forth, and at that moment it might have been easy for someone listening to assume that Maura Isles was not, in fact, a cyborg. When had the scientist become a poet? "I knew you wouldn't want me to see, so I looked off to the side, but no matter what I'd seen, I'd still feel that way. That's what I was going to say, but then I chickened down. I was going to say, if it helps, I think you're beautiful. If it doesn't help... Well, I still think so."

"Chickened out or backed down," it was a hoarse whisper. Jane cleared her throat. "The terms are 'chickened out' or 'backed down'," she looked up into the honest hazel eyes before her. Voice still weak, she asked, "You think I'm pretty?" _Nice, Rizzoli, when did you turn into a 16 year old girl? Really? She's probably going to… hell, I have no idea what she's going to do. **When** you see me naked? Seriously? This probably isn't going to end well. Where the hell did my filter go?_

"I've told you that before," Maura reminded her as her hands left Jane's shoulders to take her hands. "I distinctly recall telling you that you were gorgeous. Before you try to shift credit onto the little black dress, yes, the dress is pretty too, but _it_ didn't elevate _you_." Again that brow arched, this time not a question, but an invitation to consider the inverse phrase: that _Jane_ had been the one to confer an honor on the _dress_ instead.

"I think the scars pull away from whatever I could bring to the plate." Dark brown eyes focused on the visible scars on the hands currently being held in the doctor's protective grasp. "All of them, even the ones under that dress. But, even I have to admit, the dress looked good. It's the only reason I let Ma talk me into buying it. I figured, if _I_ thought I looked okay, then I must look pretty okay, you know?" She pulled her hands away to hide them under her shirttail. "I just… you're _different_ , Maura, and I really didn't want you to … I mean how you see me is important to me. I don't care what a lot of them think, but," she shook her head. "I think the sick is messing up my head. Sorry."

"I agree," Maura replied as she drew Jane's hands up to kiss each one on the knuckles, "the sick is messing with your head. Either that, or you're not nearly as intelligent as I've always believed, but I'll hypothesize for now that it's just the illness. When you're feeling better, I'll try again to convince you that I mean it when I tell you you're devastating."

 _She just kissed my hands. I **let** her just kiss my hands. What… I don't even know. Hold up, did she just call me stupid?_ "Hey, I'm not stupid, Maura." Slipping backing into her comfort zone, Jane narrowed her eyes at the honey blonde. "I'm smart. I can put things together. Just because I don't use big words like disassociation and self-depreciation doesn't mean I don't know what they mean and when they apply."

"Deprecation," Maura murmured, not amused at all at this sudden onrush of conversation from someone who was so physically drained. "Please, Jane, calm down. That's not what I'm trying to s-"

Jane ignored her; she was clearly working herself up. "I'm sick but that doesn't mean I can't put things together. I'm a detective and I _kick ass_ at it. Sick or not, I'm too awesome to let little things just slip by if they're important. If you don't think that I haven't caught on by now that we," _Have a thing for each other. Want to date each other. At the very least have the hots for each other._

Had she been a comic book reader, Maura might have pondered the thought bubbles that kept forming and bursting above Jane's head, but she was blind to such fancies. Instead, she simply sat waiting as Jane worked things through.

"Oh shit." Shock and realization struck the detective hard, like a physical blow to the gut, and she reacted as such. "You need to let me up… quickly."

 _That did not go in the direction I anticipated,_ Maura thought, then belatedly - and very hurriedly - stood, backing away to give Jane space.

The taller woman took off at breakneck speed for the bathroom where she remained for a good 10 minutes with the door shut and locked. When she emerged, freshly cleaned from her latest bought of sickness, she shuffled into her bedroom, climbed back on the bed, and waited with expectant eyes, indicating she wanted Maura to leave the glass of ice and the Pedialyte she'd brought into the bedroom, and sit back down. Maura complied without needing a verbal translation, something she could seldom do when other people tried to tell her things with their eyes. Barring flirtation, of course.

Once the doctor was seated by her again, Jane cleared her throat and started speaking again, slowly. "Before you say it, yes, I'll drink some more of that stuff you brought… in a second." _Okay, how do I deal with this?_ She shrugged. _Like I deal with everything else. Why change now?_ "Maura, why doesn't it bother you when I sleep on you? That's a pretty intimate position for just friends, isn't it? The only people I've ever slept with like that are boyfriends. So, how come you're okay with me wrapping around you like you're my personal body pillow?"

"Because you're my best, dearest, most treasured friend in all the world, and I like being close with you," Maura replied too easily for it to be anything but the truth. _The_ truth.

"But, just a friend? Nothing… else?" Jane's voice was soft, uncertain.

Maura's expression became closed as her voice, too, lowered in pitch and volume. "I wish you'd asked me this before yesterday."

 _Well crap._ "Okay, I get it. I'll just… we can just… who are they?' _Smooth, Rizzoli._ "I mean, they're lucky, and I'm slow. I'm sorry, Maura. Maybe you should go? I'll be fine, and I can call Ma if I really need anything." _I just figured this out, and now I'm not even going to have a chance to do anything about it. Great._ She crossed her arms, glancing away from the doctor.

The caramel-streaked head bowed in acceptance of Jane's suggestion even as she failed to get up or move. "You don't trust easily, Jane, and I've been so lucky that, so far, you've trusted me. If I say I want something besides friendship, you will have every reason to wonder why I'm helping you in the ways that I've been helping you. I know my motives have been pure, but how could _you_ be sure?" She pressed her lips together, not lifting her face or her eyes; she sat beside Jane, but initiated no contact with her, unlike any other time the two were within arm's reach. "And if I said no," she began, then paused. "If I said no," her breathing went shallow and quick. "If I... If I said..." One hand fluttered to her heart as her breaths shuddered hollowly. "If I said no..." The hand clutched itself into a fist; she tried to swallow, but failed. She started to sway back and forth, skin going pale and ashy.

 _She's going to pass out._ "You wouldn't." Jane followed the statement with a touch of her hand to Maura's where it rested in the doctor's lap. "I think that's what you're telling me here, isn't it? If not, there's something really wrong with you, and we should take you to the hospital." She gave a wry smirk. _She's cute when she's… no, not going… why the hell not? She's cute when she's flustered._ "Maura, I know you. I know that, despite whatever else may be going on in your head, you would never take advantage of me. I trust you. You're right, it takes a lot to get me there, but it takes a lot to break my trust, too, and you… you get _a lot_ of leeway from me." A blush began to color her cheeks. "I guess I know why now." She wrapped her hand around Maura's. "Stay?"

Minutes passed before Maura's biological response to decelerate from its panicked state, even after her mind understood that the threat of her own potential falsehood was past, and longer still for her to whisper, "I'm fine" through her tight throat and dry mouth. The hand clutched to her heart, the one Jane held, unclenched and dropped to join its fellow in her lap. "A little... extremely embarrassed, but I'm fine. And you're dehydrated, and I want to get you a drink." Her fingers squeezed lightly before letting go of Jane's, only long enough to get up and pour strawberry Pedialyte into the glass of ice and hand it over as she resumed her seat. "Drink. Please?" Practical needs always came first, especially when those needs were Jane's.

Only when she had seen half of the glassful downed would Maura go on. "You're right, Jane, I would never take advantage of you. But do you really believe that? You were scared of me earlier. You didn't want my help when you needed it, not for undressing, not for bathing, not for drying, not for dressing again. Even when you passed out, wet and cold, you woke up afraid of me and of what I'd seen. Wasn't that because you didn't want me to see your bare body? Wasn't it because you already knew?"

"No," Jane finished off her drink and set it on the nightstand. "It's because I'm hardheaded and self-conscious about my body. I really didn't know, and it really had nothing to do with you." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not scared of you, Maura. I mean, I _could_ be scared of you. You're the only person I can think of that could kill a person and never get caught, but I'm digressing. Look, the thought never occurred to me until about 20 minutes ago. Up until then, I just thought my mind was wandering off in strange places. It does that sometimes." She chuckled. "I bet you're not surprised." With some obvious strain, she shifted on the bed to better face the other woman. "I hate that I'm so sick right now, but I don't think it would have ever dawned on me if these things hadn't happened." _Because I'm apparently denser than Korsak when you tell him to leave the dog alone._ "I have to be honest. I'm a little lost now. I don't know where to go from here."

Relentlessly, Maura refilled the glass and held it out again, determined to get Jane back to health if it killed them both. However, sending that two servings at once might be a bit much, she set it by the bedside instead before the lanky woman could even refuse. "I suggest that we go to b-... go to sleep. Well, you sleep. I need a shower first, but I promise to be quick and come right back here to warm you up. I don't want you to stay chilled, because that won't do your system any favors. Then, after you're awake and have had at least one more glass of this, we'll talk and see what we can figure out. See where you _want_ to go. If anywhere."

Jane's eyes narrowed. _She's been wearing cutoff jeans for two days, and I just now noticed that. How sick am I? Yeah, I need to get back on my game._ "Okay." Without protest, Jane lay down, settling into the bed. _I like this being able to think what I want thing. Far less stressful than trying to not think about... Maura._ She smiled.

"Just rest," Maura said quietly, encouragingly. "I'm going to take Joe for a better walk first."

The W-word caused a rapid jingling from the far reaches of the apartment, and soon Maura was covered in bouncing dog. The two of them went out again, this time for a real walk - not just biological relief for Joe Friday, but also a chance to visit with the other neighborhood dogs, smell a few butts, catch up on all the news, sniff the odd garbage can or signpost. Maura, too, did her visiting, as the neighbors were gradually getting used to seeing her with Jane's dog. An elderly man asked what Looker Two was doing with Looker One's dog, and Maura had the fun of telling the ancient Russian immigrant that Looker One was very sick, and she was taking the dog as a favor. The man ordered her to get Looker One back to health so he could enjoy his morning heart attack prevention stroll again; Maura laughed and walked Joe back home, stopping for her overnight bag from the trunk of the car.

An hour later, Maura was clean again, comfortably outfitted in one of Jane's summer-weight bath robes, hair damp and looking for all the world like she had just had a blessedly rough night out with some very healthy companion(s), rather than a relatively tame night in with her sick best friend. She had not bothered with cosmetics, hair dryers, not even scented body spray or lotion. She was as hypo-allergenic, unscented, and pure as Ivory soap, right down to the unconcealed freckles, as she walked back to Jane's bedroom to raid the drawers for something to wear.

"Wear the Red Sox's button jersey in the top drawer on the right. There's a matching pair of red shorts underneath it." Not bothering to move, Jane's voice was muffled by her pillow. "Then, come to bed." _Please? Out loud, Rizzoli._ "Come to bed… please?"

Maura's rummaging hands paused as she turned just her face towards Jane, her smile going from automatic and sunny to speculative, then to settled. Obediently she bent back to the drawer and pulled out the indicated garments, lay them on the bed along with the underthings she'd pulled from her own supplies - incidentally atop Jane's knees - and let the short kimono drop from her shoulders, flicking it from her fingertips at the last second to land on the nearby chair, leaving her with nothing but bedhead and a smile.

And, it became apparent as she turned with deliberation to face away from Jane, a small scar on her surprisingly tan-line-free backside. It was on the right, a fat diagonal line dividing six evenly-spaced dots, as if a butterfly had landed, seared her with its body and feet, and then took off again. _There, now you've seen my scar, too_ , she thought pointedly. _Fair is fair._

Jane had been trying to not watch, to give Maura the privacy she'd asked from the doctor earlier, but, upon seeing the scar, her eyes widened, and she couldn't stop watching. _She totally did that on purpose._ Waiting until all clothing was on, she reached out to offer a hand to the smaller woman. "Maura? Are you coming?"

"Almost ready." However, Maura didn't turn back around until the shirt was at least buttoned on the bottom half. The fit illustrated the differences between their body types. Jane's long, lean limbs were showcased by this same outfit, but on Maura, it was all about the curves. The buttons at the chest, especially, seemed a little strained. The doctor didn't seem to mind, however. She simply slid under the covers and right up to Jane, allowing the shivering woman to leech body heat from her as much as she could want. Maura had plenty and to spare, after that shower.

The dark haired brunette was all too happy to take the offered warmth. Cozying up, she again wrapped her lanky form around the doctor, allowing herself to be held. "You don't have to tell me about it, but thank you for showing me," she whispered, nose gently nuzzling against Maura's pulse point. "Also, my shirt looks _awesome_ on you." She smiled. _I really need to get her to wear that shirt more often. Okay, now I'm turning into a dirty old man._ "Thanks for wearing it."

"It looks like it's about to come undone, but it's comfortable... and I don't mind if it does," Maura acknowledged with a smile as she embraced her best, dearest, most treasured friend.

Jane smiled at the mental picture. _Can't say I would mind either._

Because Jane w _as_ Maura's friend, _that_ friend, Maura felt suddenly like sharing her big, hilarious, embarrassing moment. "I was injured during a ballet performance. Just before the end of my first number, my partner lifted me slightly incorrectly, set me down _entirely_ incorrectly, and because I'd failed to rosin my toe shoes thoroughly enough, I slipped and fell right on my... posterior. That was the one performance that both my parents attended in my whole life. As it turned out, I'd managed to chip my pelvic bone. I had to have surgery right after the final curtain call."

 _She danced most of that thing with **that** kind of injury? That had to hurt like hell. God, Maura's seriously hard core. _ "Only you, Maura" with a chuckle, Jane gave the other woman a little squeeze. "I would have gone to every single performance. They missed out." She pulled back to look the other woman in the eyes. "Of course, you could get me to go just about anywhere. I'm totally whipped when it comes to you. I think I might follow you anywhere." She resettled. "Like a puppy." _Yeah, I said it._

"In their defense," Maura immediately offered as she pulled Jane a little closer against her, adjusting her spinal posture so as to offer as much warmth and soft surface area as possible, "I studied ballet in France, not right around the corner. Attending every performance would not have been practical. But if you want to follow me around... well, that, I understand. I've been told the view is spectacular from back there."

"I keep forgetting how humble you are," Jane deadpanned. "Okay, sleep now, more talking later. I'm exhausted, you're comfy and squishy… in a good way …and I want to hurry up and get better. I've got a reason now."

"False modesty," Maura offered, along with a kiss for the tip of Jane's nose, "is just as dishonest as any other lie. I work very hard to look good, and I don't fish for compliments by denigrating myself so that you'll have to leap in to save my fragile self-esteem. Besides," she said with a low chuckle as her poor, tired, sick friend drifted into sleep, "I just got dressed facing the mirror. I saw you watching."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next title in this series is "A Little Better".


End file.
